Harbinger Of Glory

Chapter 252: David Vs Goliath!

In the days leading up to the final, there was nothing but excitement for the Wigan fans.

Their team was in the FA Cup final.

It always felt incredulous when they heard it, since none would’ve thought about them making something like the FA cup final when the season began, but here they were, just a few days away.

On the City side of things, the mood was different but no less charged.

Pep Guardiola’s side had been here before and knew what it required, and the news of the rescheduling had barely caused a ripple in the squad’s preparation.

They had the Champions League final on the horizon and the FA Cup final before it, and the general sense around the Etihad was that the business of winning things was simply being attended to in the correct order.

For neutrals, they were simply curious.

Most hadn’t followed Wigan’s journey and had only heard about their qualification, and that was what piqued their interest.

A Championship club against the best team in England, and not a Championship club that had stumbled into the final but one that had fought through injury and adversity and a semi-final at Wembley to earn the right to be there.

It had the shape of a good story.

Whether it had the ending to match was another question.

Leo was lying on his bed two evenings before the squad travelled when his phone lit up, and it was a name he hadn’t heard much from recently.

"Am I putting that much pressure on you for you to call?" Leo said as he answered.

"You couldn’t even, you tried?" Carlo said, skipping the greeting entirely.

"But I do hope you are ready because I do not want you to embarrass yourself at Wembley!"

"I could say the same for you," Leo retorted before going quiet.

"Pep told me this morning I’m starting," Carlo said suddenly, causing Leo, on the other side, to raise a brow before noticing the excitement the former was trying to contain.

Leo sat up slightly.

"That’s good," Leo said, and meant it. "That’s really good, Carlo."

"Yeah, I know," Carlo responded.

They sat with that for a second, with neither talking until both began to wonder if the call had ended.

"You’ve been working for that," Leo said, finally breaking the silence.

"Still feels weird when it actually comes," Carlo said. Then, "What about you. You starting?"

"I don’t know yet. Dawson hasn’t said. But I do think I will get minutes even if I do not start."

"At the very least, it will leave me fresh for the playoff final should I not start. For me, that’s the end goal!"

Carlo made a sound that suggested he found this diplomatically interesting, given what Leo’s hamstring had been doing for the past two months, but Leo ignored it.

"How’s the thing?" he asked. "The City situation. You said you were feeling stagnant."

Carlo went quiet for a moment at that, seemingly in thought.

"Getting closer," he said finally. "Still need time. But it’s moving along."

"You’ll figure it out."

"I know, but I feel like a bit more control wouldn’t hurt."

Leo nodded even though Carlo couldn’t see it.

He didn’t understand what his friend was going through, but he could feel him trying to prove his worth afterall, he had gone through the same feeling some months back.

Then Carlo’s tone shifted slightly, the conversation finding a different gear.

"Listen, though," he said. "On the day. We’re not letting you off. Just so you know."

Leo laughed. "Didn’t expect you to."

"The treble in sight, Leo. We’re not losing an FA Cup final to a Championship club."

"I’m going to try my best to ruin that for you."

"You’re going to try," Carlo said.

"Watch me."

Carlo scoffed, but there was a smile somewhere underneath it.

"Get some sleep. Let’s not talk tomorrow. I do not want to feel pity for you before the game!"

"Same for me," Leo said with a smile as the call ended.

Leo set his phone on the bedside table and looked at the ceiling for a while before rising to his feet and making his way into the bathroom!

Morning came without any ceremony, and then the next one too.

The day before had been uneventful, with only one thing to look forward to, and so at before first light, Leo was already up, even before his alarm had gone off.

He had slept enough, but he still felt tired.

This one, he could feel, stemmed mentally.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a second, stretched his legs out, then got up and moved through the usual morning routine.

’I’ll be rooting for you!’

’We’ll be at the stadium.’

’May God be with you!’

These were the messages Leo came to face as he powered his phone on.

As if knowing he had just woken up, another message came through, this time from Vittoria.

The latter had made it clear her intention to come and support Leo, but the latter knew of her commitments and told her not to stall them for his.

He knew Vittoria wouldn’t mind, but he didn’t want to earn the ire of Vittoria’s aunt from all that he’d heard.

When he was down washing up, he went back to the small fridge and pulled out what he’d taken from the cafeteria the night before, which involved some cut fruit, a container of oats and something easy to get through.

He ate standing up, scrolling halfway through some other messages before locking the phone again and setting it aside.

By the time he stepped out into the corridor, the building was still quiet.

It was just past nine, and most of the squad wouldn’t be in for another few hours.

The training complex felt different like that.

Beside him, it was just the staff moving in the background, getting whatever they would need for the game later that day ready.

Leo made his way down the hallway, nodding at one of the physios as he passed.

"You’re early."

"Yeah, well, today’s kind of big," Leo replied with a smile.

The physio smiled back before leaving the youngster to himself.

Leo continued on his walk before finally stopping at the entrance of the massage room, which was empty when he stepped in.

Without waiting, he stripped down to just his training shirt and shorts before lying down without needing to be told, face turned to the side as one of the staff came in a moment later and got to work.

It had become routine now.

Hands working into the muscle, checking, loosening, making sure nothing decided to tighten at the worst possible time.

Every now and then, the physio would ask something simple, mainly about how Leo felt when something was tugged at and if there was any pull, and Leo would answer just as simply.

"Fine."

And that was all he needed to be.

—

By the time the team bus rolled out hours later, Wembley was already alive.

It hit them before they even saw it properly.

The road felt cramped, so much so that the players in the bus could feel the hands of the fans on the body of the bus as they moved towards the stadium.

As they got closer and closer, the noise began feeling heavier and heavier until the players could feel the rumbling through their feet on the floor of the bus.

Inside the bus, no one said much.

Everyone had their idea of what was done during a final.

For Leo, he just sat still, mind going through all that he had watched in the video room a day before.

"That might be why I am feeling more tired mentally," he muttered as he thought about all the tapes he had gone through about the Manchester City players leading up to the game.

When he looked to his side, he saw Ezra with his headphones off and a questioning look, like he was wondering what Leo had said, but the latter shook his head before looking back outside as the bus slowed as it turned into the underground parking.

Once inside, the outside noise cut off almost immediately, replaced by the enclosed quiet of concrete walls and engines idling as well as the sharp chatter of staff members moving around, trying to get this done.

For a second, no one moved as the engine of the bus went silent.

Then a moment later, Dawson stood up first.

"Let’s go."

The moment he said that, a chain of players began rising to their feet.

They picked up their bags before, one by one, they stood and made their way down the aisle and then off the bus a while later when the bus door opened.

"Please this way," one of the Wembley staff instructed as she gestured towards one of the pathways leading into the stadium.

There were stares, questioning ones, like each stare was asking them what they were going to do today.

The Wigan players didn’t have all the answers to the stares, but they knew they were going to play their hearts out, and that was enough.